The Moments Like This
by NaleyBrucasFan - aka Lizzy
Summary: You'd think a few days off from the Victory Tour would mean a chance to finally relax and ignore our stressful life style. Not for Katniss as an illness ruins everything! SickKatniss/CaringPeeta during CF : Betaed by KaelynnD
1. Chapter 1

_This chapter is dedicated to KaelynnD. The best beta I could ask for. I hope you all enjoy it. _

The Moments Like This

By Lizzy

We finally are given a couple of days break in the craziness called the Victory Tour. We had just finished District 6 and were on our way to District 5 when Effie had had enough. She could see how broken Peeta and I had become and demanded that we extend our travel by a day to give us time to recuperate. This tour had been hell both physically and emotionally. Meeting the families of the deceased was almost more than I could bear. Even though I was not responsible for some of their children's deaths, seeing the families' grieved faces was planted in my memory. I couldn't imagine what it would be like for my mother or sister, or Peeta's family, to be in these parents' positions.

On top of all the stress that came along with the Tour, I could not remember a night where I wasn't jolted awake from violent nightmares. It had become routine for Peeta to make his way into my room when the screaming began and do his best to comfort me until I fell asleep. On some nights, sleep would honor me with its presence, giving me at least a few hours of terror-free sleep. However, most nights I would just give up and either lay there awake, listening to Peeta's breathing and making sure his nightmares were calmed, or we would talk until the sun arose.

I remember going to bed with a weight lifted off my shoulder. I was not sure if it was the fact that I would be able to "relax," whatever that was, for the next few days or if was that I would actually be able to get all my emotions back in order. This tour was wearing me down more than I thought possible. Ever since my dad's death I have been able to keep my emotions pretty much at bay, unless you count the weeks during the Hunger Games. But that made me harden even more, so all these emotions during this tour had really worn me down, and I bet my wonderful sleep patterns hadn't helped much either.

"You okay?" I hear someone say.

I immediately snap out of my thoughts and look around. It is still completely dark outside and I lay in the bed with Peeta behind me, his arm wrapped around my waist.

"Huh?" I ask, looking in his direction.

"Are you okay?" he asks again, stressing the word okay.

I turn over to stare at crystal his blue eyes. "Yeah, why?" I ask, kind of confused.

"You're still shaking."

I look at him with what must be a confused expression when I notice it myself. It is almost like fever chills ran through my body. This previous nightmare had been a doosy. I remember waking up screaming and shaking like a leaf, but that was over an hour ago and the shakes usually reside much faster than this.

I really didn't know what to tell him. I feel okay, unless you count a slight headache that builds behind my eyes, but my guess is that the cause is lack of sleep and the exhaustion that always clings to me like an unwanted friend.

"Oh…" is all I can really say. He is telling the truth. "I guess I am a little cold," I add.

I really can't tell him why I am still shaking. I don't feel cold but maybe my body does. Next thing I know, I feel the comforter being wrapped around my body.

"Any better?"

I nod my head and turn back over, even though I really can't tell a difference.

"Try to get some sleep. It's still early in the morning," Peeta insists as he wraps his arms tighter around me. Feeling his warmth allows this calmness to overtake me and within a few minutes I fall back asleep.

_I turn around and immediately recognize where I am. I stand in my kitchen, watching the snow gently fall from the sky. That is when I hear his voice. I quickly turn to see my father standing in the doorway with a smile on his face. _

_"Hi Katniss," was all he says before I knock over three chairs in order to fall into his open arms. He is still alive and well. _

_Hearing the commotion, my mom and sister walk into the room with confused looks on their faces. _

_Prim sees the tears in my eyes and asks, "What's wrong with you? Dad's only been gone for a few hours."_

_Now it is my turn to be confused. Then it all clicks - the accident never happened. My mother and sister never knew the horrific pain of losing my father. Everything is the way that it is supposed to be. _

_All I can do is stand there, wrapped in my father's arms, never wanting to let go. _

_Suddenly everything starts to spin. Before I recognize what is happening, I am standing in the middle of the arena. The 74th Hunger Games is happening right in front of me. I turn to my left and se my father, mother, Prim, Rue, Peeta, and Gale, pretty much everyone I love and care about, standing approximately a hundred yards away from me. That is when I see it, a large hovercraft. Before I can even find my voice to scream out "Run!" it is already over. Through all the shock I run over to see everyone I care about in the world dead, blood running like an ocean from their bodies. I scoop Prim's body into my arms as the anger boils inside me and the tears run down my face. Then I see something in the corner of my eye._

"Katniss! Wake up!"

A scream pulls me out of my current nightmare. I frantically look around to see Peeta trying his best to hold me close. I notice that I had kicked off all the covers from the bed, had sweat pouring from my skin, and had tears streaming down my face. That is when I realize how much worse my simple headache had gotten. It feels like my eyes are about to burst out of my head. Peeta isn't lying next to me anymore, but kneels on the side of the bed, holding me close. He only does that when I thrash around in the bed like a wild animal.

"You got me good this time," he says softly as he combs my hair back with his fingers.

I know I had either kicked or hit him hard enough to bruise him. That is one of the consequences of sleeping with someone who has night terrors. I had been in his shoes as well. One time we thought he had broken my rib with the force with which he hit me, but it turned out just to be bruised. He demanded that we stop sleeping together after he realized he could hurt me, but after time we both came to the agreement that possibly getting hit was just a part of the sleeping arrangement.

"I am sorry," I croak as I slowly sit up. My head pounds now with my heartbeat and all I want to do is lay back down and go back to sleep nightmare-free.

"Better?" he asks with a concerned look on his face. We had gotten way past the point of asking each other if we were okay after a nightmare, knowing the answer every time. So now Peeta always asks if the after effects are over.

I nod my head and look outside. The sun had begun to rise, meaning it is still early morning, but there would likely already be breakfast on the table in the dining car. Eating is absolutely the last thing I want to think about, and truth be told I am a little nauseous. I can hear Peeta's stomach begin to rumble as he continues to hold me close.

"Just go get breakfast. I'll be here when you get back."

I expect him to argue with me but he doesn't. He just nods his head and walks out of my room. As soon as the door closes, I shut my eyes again, not caring if I have another nightmare. My body is screaming for more sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry for the wait, but I promise it is worth it. Thanks KaelynnD for the awesome betaing! I hope yall enjoy _

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Chapter 2

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The sun is shining bright the next time I wake up. It is probably around ten in the morning. I look around the room to see that I'm now alone. Peeta had probably gotten sick of watching me sleep and decided to go do something. Speaking of being sick, something still isn't right. I feel exhausted, which isn't unusual, but this is different. My arms feel like they weigh five hundred pounds and my headache from earlier is still going strong. Maybe food will help? They should still have some sort of food in the dining car. I slowly lower my feet on the floor and stand up. I realize how weak I have become when I am no longer leaning against the bed.

"This is just great! Just what I need, to get sick right now," I think to myself. Maybe this break will allow me to recover from whatever germ is invading my body at the moment.

I open my bedroom door only to find Peeta coming out his. His blonde hair is still wet and sticking up every which away.

"Good morning sleepy head." He smiles.

"Morning," I croak back, not knowing my voice was going to sound as scratchy as it did.

Peeta immediately notices and before I can say anything he's right next to me.

"I am okay. I promise. It's just allergies," I lie.

"Ummm, Katniss, you don't have allergies," he corrects.

"How would you know?" I shoot back, giving him one of my death looks.

"Because I've been around you my whole life," he answers.

"My throat is a little scratchy. Nothing a cold drink won't fix." I decide to leave out my fatigue and headache. There is no reason in worry him. I'm going to be fine.

A drink really did help with my voice. I sound like my old self, just tired, but he is accustomed to seeing me like that. I mean let's be honest, when is anyone well rested during the Hunger Games and on the Victory Tour?

About an hour later, Haymitch decides to make an appearance. He's definitely hung over, but what else is new? He didn't have to do anything today, so that apparently that is perfect reason to get plastered. I roll my eyes. I can't imagine drinking as much as he does on a daily basis. I have been hung over once and that was more than enough for me.

He walks in without saying anything and just sits down in the chair next to Peeta. He sinks so far into the chair that his head is level with the center of the back, and his legs stick out straight before him.

"Very attractive Haymitch." I roll my eyes at him.

"Thanks sweetheart. No one really here to impress." He continues with, "Effie had the brilliant idea to change your victory speeches so here I am. Apparently she thinks they are becoming to routine."

Peeta and I look at each other with confused expressions. We both know that our speeches are televised after each district but they seem to be going just fine. What does she expect, the whole entire crowd cheering? Sorry to burst her bubble, but that isn't about to happen. We're talking to districts that just had children killed in this ridiculous game.

We spend the next several hours redoing our speeches which never had any problems. Effie joins us about an hour in, putting in her own advice. By the time we're done my throat is on fire, my headache worse. I am so exhausted I could fall asleep standing up. All I want to do is go back to bed with Peeta there to hold me tight.

Suddenly, dinner is being served. Looking at the food makes me feel kind of nauseous, so I excuse myself with the excuse that I want to take a shower before I eat. Effie and Haymitch just shrug and let me go on my way, but Peeta gives me a concerned look, but doesn't push the subject.

By the time I get to my room, the nauseous feeling seems to disappear. But now my lungs feel heavy and my scratching throat is causing me to go into coughing fits. I know at this point that there is nothing I can do about hiding my illness; as soon as Peeta, Haymitch, or Effie hear me cough they will know that something is wrong and that I am actually sick not just tired. I decide that turning on the shower might not be such a bad idea. My mom used to always put Prim and me in hot steam baths when either one of us had an upper respiratory infection. Thinking of this made me miss them and I can't help but wish I was home right now. There I at least knew where the medicine was kept so I could get what I needed and start feeling better.

I must have been in the bathroom for a while because the next thing I know I hear knocking. I turn off the water and open the door. Vapor immediately fills the bedroom. "Are you trying to smoke everyone out or use all the hot water on the train?" Peeta asks with a smirk on his face.

"Oh, sorry," I reply, not smiling back. Chills run down my spine. The chills had started a few minutes ago and I didn't see them ending anytime soon. I walk over to my bed, avoiding eye contact with him, but as soon as I get there my throat restricts and I begin another coughing fit. I look up at Peeta, who's looking straight at me. I'm ready to come up with some excuse as to why I am coughing, but I can see the wheels in his head turning. He's connecting the dots and it's only seconds before he exclaims, "You're sick!"

"I'll be okay," I insist as I sit down on my bed.

Peeta walks over and places the back of his hand on my forehead. I see the concern in his eyes growing. "You're feverish. I am going to see if I can get you some medicine."

"No!" I snap. "Please? I don't want anything. I just want to take a nap. I bet my fever will be gone when I wake up."

Peeta's eyes are still concerned but he agrees. As I lay down on my bed he goes into my bathroom for a minute and comes out with a washcloth in his hand. "Here, put this on your forehead. It'll help," he whispers and then lies down beside me. I almost make him get up, not wanting him to get sick as well, but having him here is comforting, so I decide if I get him sick then I'll take care of him just like he is me.

The next thing I know, I am jolting wake. It is now dark outside and my stomach is in my mouth. I barely make it to the bathroom before I start vomiting up everything I have eaten today. I don't even have time to shut the door. It's only a matter of moments before Peeta is right behind me, holding my hair back. I hear him sweetly telling me that it's going to be okay as he rubs my back. I'm finally able to lean back against him and breathe after several long moments. Sweat is pouring down my face and I can barely hold myself up.

"Finished?" he asks after a few minutes of me laying on him.

"I think so," I gasp out, "I don't know what happened. One minute I was okay and then bam."

"Let's get you back to bed," he whispers, lifting me up gently. I am skeptical about leaving the bathroom, but my stomach seems to have calmed itself down. I am thankful since my throat is still on fire, my head pounding, and my chest weighed down. I'm visibly shaking from my chills.

We get halfway to the bed when a coughing fit overtakes my body. I immediately put my hands on my knees as my body contours with the pain. Peeta places his hands on my back to hold me up. When I finally get into bed he looks straight at me and says, "Now can I go get you some medicine?"

I don't care who knows I am sick anymore. I feel like death so I nod my head as I tightly wrap my comforter around me. It seems like five seconds before he returns with a glass of water and a small cup of white syrup in his hand. He helps me sit up and hands me the water and the cup.

"What is that for?" I ask before I drink the serum.

"It's a multi-cold syrup. Should help with your cough, fever, and chills," he replies.

I nod and quickly swallow the liquid. It tastes terrible so I quickly drink down the cool water. I didn't realize how thirsty I had been until I had the glass to my lips. "Hey, slow down…" Peeta says gently, lifting the glass away. "We don't want you throwing it back up."

I nod my head and lower the glass to Peeta's open hand. He places his hand on my forehead then looks at me and gently smiles. "You're one sick girl, missy. I don't like how high that fever has gotten. Try to get some sleep. It shouldn't be too long before that medicine kicks in."

I look up at him about to ask where he got the medicine, but before I could get anything out he walks into the bathroom and I lose my fight with my eyelids, allowing them to close. It isn't long before I feel someone placing a cool rag over my forehead and around my neck, then I feel the bed sink and an arm wrap around my body.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry it took me so long to update. I am so thankful for the people who sent in reviews and alerted the story. I really hope you enjoy this chapter._

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Chapter 3

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My eyes cautiously open and daylight streams through the open window of my bedroom. I let out a groan, and with it came a coughing fit. My ribs feel like they are breaking as my lungs constrict. After last night, I wouldn't have thought it possible to feel any worse, but I was wrong. My clothes are plastered to my body and my hair to my head. Every time I move pain shoots through my body, but I have to move. I am freezing, and even Peeta's body heat isn't helping. Peeta must hear the coughing because I feel him move around then my gray eyes meet his blue.

"You aren't feeling better, are you?" he asks.

How in the world did he know that? Was it really that obvious? I mean, sure my cough sounds worse, but that was to be expected. Anyway, I decide there is no use in lying to him so I just nod my head, yes.

"Worse?"

I nod again, trying my best to swallow the saliva that has built up in my mouth. My throat is an inferno and my stomach is rumpling unpleasantly. I need to get to the bathroom just in case; the last thing I want to do was throw up on the bed. I slowly begin to get up. Peeta is watching my every move. I can feel it.

"Bathroom?" he asks.

I say yes and he helps me walk across the room. My voice sounds nothing like my own.

When we get into the bathroom all I do is sit on the floor with my head resting against the cool toilet seat. After a few minutes of sitting there, my stomach begins to revolt again, but this time there's barely anything left except water and bile. Peeta immediately grabs my sticky hair and begins rubbing my back once again. This is absolutely miserable. I don't even have enough energy to hold my head up anymore. Tears stream down my face as my stomach calms. Peeta quickly gets up and fills a glass with water and has me wash my mouth out as he flushes the toilet.

As soon as he sits next to me I throw myself into his arms and cry. Cry for the fact that I feel like I am dying and how much I wish I was at home being taken care of by my mom.

All Peeta can do is hold me as I cry, gasp for breath, and cry some more. I'm crying so hard that I can't hear the door open, until I hear someone else's voice.

"She sick?" Haymitch is standing at my bathroom door with a hung over but concerned look on his face.

"Yeah, I think she's got a case of influenza," Peeta answers, wrapping his arms tighter around me. Hearing those words scare me. People in District 12 easily die from this illness. Sometimes they get to my mom in time and she is able to help, but it's more common for them to die.

Haymitch doesn't come any closer but does tell us that he's going to go find me some medicine that should help, then leaves.

By this time I am finished crying and am in a sitting position. Again my stomach has calmed down. All this drainage must be what is making my stomach upset. After a few minutes I find the energy to get up and shuffle back to bed without Peeta's help.

"Thank you," I whisper as Peeta sits on the side of my bed.

He smiles, "There's no need to say thanks, you did the exact same thing for me."

He's right. I did and I'll do it again if I have to. My mind goes back to the cave and how blood poisoning was ravishing Peeta's body those few days. I was so scared that he wasn't going to make it. At least he knew that I was going to be okay. I mean they have to have some cure for this disease. All I will need is just to be in bed for a few days and take some medicine, and then I will be back to my normal self. Right? I mean I am a crucial part of this tour; the capital can't possibly let me die from this illness.

It seems like it takes forever for Haymitch to get back with whatever medicine he's going to give me. But finally he walks back into my room with four bottles of medicine in his hand. He explains that one of them is to help with my fever, one for cough, one to help me sleep, and the other for my stomach. He also goes on to say that if I am feeling worse by tonight the Capital has a doctor that can be brought in.

"I don't want a doctor. I just want to go home." I spat out tearing beginning to flow down my cheeks. I couldn't remember the last time I have been this sick, and being away from home is not helping me feel any better.

Peeta and Haymitch just look at me. We all know that that wasn't going to happen. They don't just let the victors leave the tour. I just lay there and cry, not letting Peeta touch me. Haymitch must have had enough of the mushy stuff because he suddenly turns around, leaves the bottles on my bedside table and instructs Peeta on how I need to take them. He then walks out the door. After about fifteen minutes, Peeta finally coaxes me into taking the medicine. It takes a while for the sleeping serum to kick in but when it does I am completely out.

* * *

I must have been sleeping for quite a while, because the next time I wake up the sun is setting beneath the clouds. I lay there, trying to figure out how I feel. Truthfully it is about the same. I am just thankful that it's not worse. I slowly raise myself up in the bed. I am completely alone. It should be dinner time right about now. I slowly and carefully get up out of bed and make my way to the dining car. I am not hungry but I know I at least need to try and eat something. I secretly hope eating will help boost my nonexistent energy level.

As soon as I walk in, I feel three pairs of eyes on me; Peeta, Haymitch, and Effie all look somewhat shocked to me standing in the doorway.

"Look who rose from the dead!" Haymitch exclaims. I choose to ignore this comment and him, while I feel Peeta guide me to the closest empty chair.

"Thanks," I whisper. My voice was almost completely gone by this point.

"I heard you were sick!" Effie exclaims, scrunching her nose a little. I know I must have looked terrible. I already know how pale I am, that my eyes are sunken, and I am dressed in one of Peeta's t-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, but I didn't even think about looking at my hair before I left my room, but that is the last thing on my mind.

All I do is simply smile at her.

"I'll get you some soup and water," Peeta states, standing up and walking towards the kitchen.

I am so thankful that he just goes into action without asking a hundred questions first. It's only a matter of seconds before a cup of broth and chicken, and a glass of water are being placed right in front of me.

"Thanks," I croak as I pick up my spoon. I carefully pour the liquid in my mouth, kind of afraid what might happen. Nothing does. The warm liquid feels amazing on my throat and for a split second the pain seems to disappear, but it comes right back. I take about ten sips when my stomach tells me that I am finished. I gently push the soup away. It is taking everything I have to not place my head on the dining room table, but I know Effie will have a cow.

Suddenly I feel Peeta wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I turn to the side to face him. "You don't want anymore?" he asks.

I shake my head no. "I'm full." I can tell that he's not happy with this answer but he leaves it at that.

I take a few sips of my water, then lean back in my chair. Apart of me wants to go back to my room and sleep for the rest of the year, but another wants to stay in the dining hall. I don't feel like being alone right now.

Everyone continues on with their conversation. Peeta asks me a few times if I want to go back to my room but I just shake my head and tell him that I will let him know when I am ready. The conversation then turns to the next District that we're visiting. I really hope that I am better by then because there is no possibly way that I could do an interview right now, no matter how much Cinna dolls me up.

Suddenly, the doors open wide and an Avox walks in with Cinna and Portia trailing behind. I have never seen this Avox before. I feverishly wondered where he works. My mind begins to go off in a dream-like state of his life story when I realize someone is staring at me. I look up to see Cinna's eyes darting at me. They are filled with concern. But he doesn't stop at my chair. He and Portia quietly stand behind Effie while the Avox hands her a note. She quickly reads it, as I stare at her watching her brown eyes go from normal to looking like they were going to pop out.

"President Snow is on his way here and wants to have a meeting with both of you. Be ready at eight tonight."


	4. Chapter 4

The Moments Chapter 4

My eyes dart from Cinna to Effie in disbelief. There's no possible way that I can do an interview right now, at least, not without serious medication. I can barely whisper, let alone have a full conversation. A coughing fit rips through my body as I try to find some sort of strength in order to prepare myself for what's going to happen tonight. Everyone's eyes gaze in my direction, concerned looks plastered on their faces. Well, almost everyone did. Effie still has the same serious look on her face.

Haymitch comes to my rescue. "Seriously? Have you looked at her lately?" He points a finger at me.

Effie's eyes turn ice cold as she glares back at him, "Well she's going to have find some strength to get through it. I can't tell the President not to come just because of a simple cold!"

Haymitch's face turns a deep red. "Does that sound like a simple cold to you?" he shouted. "Did you not just hear her coughing? I'm expecting a lung to come up any second now."

I can't believe that Haymitch is standing up for me. I can't help but wonder how he was when Peeta and I were in the games. As they continue to argue back and forth, my eyes grow heavier and heavier. To my surprise, it isn't Peeta who wraps me in his arms though; it's Cinna.

"Girl on fire," he whispers and smiles at me as I place my head in the crick of his neck. "Let's get you back in bed."

I have no recollection of how I got from the dining car into my bed. There's a good few minute walk in between the two and those moments are completely vacant in my memory. I hear Cinna fumbling around in my bathroom, but don't have the energy to ask what he is looking for. I begin to drift off when I feel a cool rag being placed on my forehead and hear someone whisper, "I wish I could get you out of this."

The next thing I know I am gently being shook awake. "Katniss, we've got to get you ready."

I nod. I force my body to sit up and walk over to my full length mirror. Cinna dresses me in this beautiful cerulean blue shirt with ruffles going down the front and a pair of white trousers. It's very simple, but beautiful as only Cinna can accomplish. He finds ways to make clothing extremely comfortable in addition to their appearance. I feel like I am wearing pajamas. Next is the hair and makeup. My stylists come in and try their best to make me look healthy. They chit-chat as usual and comment on how sick I look and how I should be in bed, but I am only catching a few words they are saying. My mind is too racked with fever to comprehend, so I just sit there like a mannequin.

I am in the middle of getting my hair done when Effie walks into the room with bottles in her hand. I immediately sigh in relief. She's about to give me more medicine. I could tell the others had worn off long ago and I desperately needed some more. My mother would be shocked as to how easily I am accepting help and medicine because this usually isn't the case. I am known to put up a fight and usually have to have medicine forced down my throat. But I also haven't been this sick in a very long time. As soon as the serums are given to me I gulp them down, hoping that the fever reducer will kick in quickly.

Ten minutes later I am standing in a part of the train that I have never been in before. The walls are covered in beautiful wallpaper and delicate decorations. Peeta walks in seconds after I do and has the same look of amazement on his face. "Beautiful isn't it?" I ask, turning to look at him. He nods, and then I notice that he's not looking at the room but at me. I blush, but he doesn't seem to notice probably because of my already fevered blushed cheeks.

"You sound a little better. Did they give you more medicine?" he asks after a few more seconds of staring.

I nod my head. I still sounded sick, but he was right. It was better. If only I felt better, then I would feel up to the meeting. The medicine did help with the coughing, sore throat, and the headache, but my fever was still up there, chills still shot down my spine, and I still feel extremely exhausted. A part of me wishes that if I am contagious, I would get President Snow sick for even arranging this ridiculous meeting.

Suddenly, the doors open. A Peacemaker walks in and tells us that President Snow will see us now. Peeta laces his finger through my hand as we walk through the double doors.

We entered what looks like a sitting room. The room was like nothing I've ever seen before. It has two story mahogany wood paneling covering three of the four walls. One wall is a beautiful floor to ceiling window with the most intricate brown drapery I have ever seen. The wall to my right is filled with book shelves and to the left a beautiful staircase that led up to the second story. Here are two chairs on the far right corner facing the biggest fireplace I have ever seen. The two chairs are facing President Snow, whose chair is placed on the other side of an elegant Persian rug. As soon as we walk in he stands up.

"There you two are. I hope you weren't waiting for too long." His fake smile sends another chill down my spine, ones not caused by my fever. I loathe this man and being around him makes me feel so much worse. What was he about to tell us? That we have not shown enough lovey-dovey moments on screen and were going to pay for it? My mind went through hundreds of scenarios while we made our way to our seats. Feeling the fire on my back helped calm the chills that were racking my body. I wanted nothing more than to curl up on this chair and take a long nap.

"Want any tea?" he offers, holding out a ceramic cup. Peeta and I both decline.

He takes a small sip of his and then gently places it on the saucer. "Well the reason why I wanted to meet with you two tonight is to discuss the rest of the Victory tour…"

He goes on to explain that we have been doing a good job so far but there's room for improvement. He proceeds in telling us that we need to remind the people of the districts about how the Capital has changed our lives for the better. Pretty much he wants us to praise the Capital for the fact that they allowed two survivors in the Hunger Games. Before long all I hear is blah, blah, blah. I am trying my best to stay focus on his words but they keep blending together. Peeta must realize what is happening because I feel him firmly squeeze my hand. My attention focuses on Snow right now as he is explaining how he enjoys watching us on the television, but he thinks that something is missing. Snow proceeds to look straight at me at this moment and I know exactly what he is talking about. Apparently he thinks that I am not doing a good enough job portraying my love to Peeta.

I look his straight in the eye; find my voice and say, "We don't want to be too affectionate with the districts because it will ruin what we have planned for our speech at the Capital."

Snow's eyes look intrigued, even though I know he is thinking something else. "Well what would that be?"

Peeta knows that I am making this entire scenario up. We haven't talked about doing anything special for the Capital, but he plays along seeing how drained I am becoming. I have been doing well until this point acting like my normal self but the flu is now overtaking me again. Peeta starts to begin to tell Snow about our plan when I feel my throat completely constrict, and before I can do anything I am in another coughing fit. Peeta stops mid-sentence as places his arm on my back. Snow's face almost looks pleased in a way as I try my best not to cough up my lungs.

"I can see that Katniss isn't well. Peeta, why don't you take her back to her room? I think we are finished here. I look forward to hearing your special announcement in a few weeks," he states as he motions over the Peacemaker to see us out. Before we leave, I catch a whiff of his blood-stained breath, which makes my stomach squeamish.

When I reach the hallway I am completely exhausted and my nausea is growing. All I want is to be back in my bed with a given serum that will completely knock me out before I can pass out on my own. I walk about five steps before the dizziness consumes my body and I stop mid-step.

"You okay?" Peeta asks when my eyes clamp shut.

"Dizzy." That's all I have to say when I feel myself being lifted off the ground. My dizziness increases for a minute so I quickly shut my eyes. But after a few moments, the dizziness subsides and I am able to rest, rocking back and forth with Peeta's uneven gait. A voice in my head tells me that I should get down and walk myself because I am probably hurting him and making it more difficult for his artificial leg, but I feel too sick.

By the time we arrive in my bedroom, my fever has risen and I'm painfully exhausted. It is taking everything I have to keep my eyes open. My body feels like it's grinding against itself and there's not a bone that doesn't hurt.

"What's wrong?" Peeta questions as he gently places me in the bed.

"Everything," I gasp out. "I feel terrible." Tears fall down my flustered cheeks.

Peeta's blue eyes are filled with worry as he holds me close.

"Peeta, you can get that doctor now."


End file.
